


like being a comet

by sebviathan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bodysharing, Canon Compliant, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, M/M, minimal dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:57:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebviathan/pseuds/sebviathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having Lucifer residing with him in his body is nothing like other angels and their vessels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like being a comet

Sam was told that being possessed by an angel is like being chained to a comet. Dragged along on a ride too fast and furious to bear, unable to find a sturdy place to sit with something so huge and powerful filling up your body like that.

From what he put together on his own and what Castiel told him, an angel's true form is larger than life. It's like stuffing a chrysler building into a person, condensing it down until it can't possibly be folded any tighter. There isn't even a pocket left for the human soul inside to condense itself into—it just has to find space where there's nothing.

Sam knows what it does to Jimmy Novak. He's told firsthand, actually. Just a year was hell for the poor guy, and Castiel is a fairly low-grade angel. Then he  _sees_  what it does to Raphael's vessel once the archangel leaves him—the man goes crazy, too mentally unstable to speak, even. His soul is probably still stuck in the condensed spaces it made for itself, likely even damaged. And that's what happens to the person  _most_  suitable for the job. Because apparently even those made to be vessels can't house something as powerful as an angel, and most certainly not an archangel.

It's the bodies, Sam guesses, that are the defining factor for which people are the perfect vessels. The souls never seem to be fit for the ride in any case, and worse so the higher up the angel grade goes. Of course consent is a factor, and he imagines that the more willing a soul is beforehand to perform the quote-endquote  _honorable_  deed of being an angel's vessel, the better of a time they'll have, but that probably isn't saying much. He would figure it's no more of a difference than how if you're polite to the nazis who are taking you away, you'll have a better time in the concentration camp.

Somehow, though, Sam isn't afraid of his soul being torn apart when he learns that he's Lucifer's vessel. He's afraid of other things, yes—like what Lucifer will do if and when he says yes, and what Dean will think of him, and what the fate of humanity will be, and what this really  _means_  about him if he was always meant to house  _Satan_  inside of him—but not of how it will feel. It's like he already knows all of this, as though everything that Lucifers telling him... he's heard it before. Like no one ever had to tell him because he's known it all from the start.

When Lucifer tells him that they're two halves made whole, Sam's angry because he knows that Lucifer isn't lying. He can deny it outwardly all he wants, but he can't just ignore how for his entire life he's felt like something huge was missing, and that that feeling of being incomplete stopped the moment he let Lucifer out of the Cage.

And when Lucifer says that they were literally  _made for each other_ , for all that Sam tries not to, he very distinctly recognizes the mutuality in what Lucifer's saying.  _You were made for me, and I was made for you._  If he thinks back even further, which he really tries to stop but he  _can't_ , he understands that Lucifer was made first, not just before him but first before  _anything_  else in all of Creation, which means that Sam's existence must have been planned from the start. And that everything that happened to Lucifer (no,  _because_  of Lucifer, he tries—and fails—to tell himself in order to avoid sympathizing with him) was all to give Sam someone who understood him.

Which also means that everything else, all of this, the apocalypse and the existence of demons and monsters and hunters, was also for Sam. The conclusion he keeps coming to is that everything horrible in the world is his fault, and truth be told, it's much easier to think like that than to try to wrap his head around the idea that the majority of Creation itself has led up to him and Lucifer being... reunited? Together at last? Whatever it is, he keeps telling himself that he doesn't want it. He really doesn't, if only in the sense that he doesn't want to rule the world and he most certainly doesn't want to destroy it.

Of course, all Lucifer does is try to make Sam understand how perfect he is. He doesn't try to coerce him, and he doesn't hurt him at all. He does everything in his power to make Sam love himself and believe that he deserves the world, and Sam consistently tries to resist. After a point, he's not even sure exactly why he's resisting anymore. He truly wants it, and for the most part he can no longer really see the bad side to all of this. So when he goes to Lucifer with a plan, Sam says that he  _wants_  to say yes and is telling the full truth. The plan is for Dean, for the world that he can no longer honestly say he cares deeply about, and it throws itself away as soon as he lets Lucifer in.

Just as Lucifer said, and just as he knew deep inside before he ever even opened the Cage, having Lucifer residing with him in his body is nothing like other angels and their vessels. It isn't like being chained to a comet so much as it is like  _being_  a comet.

Sam feels complete. Full. Whole. Every other word you can think of to describe something being exactly the way it's supposed to be. He doesn't need a pocket to worm himself into—there was already empty space inside him. It's as though his soul was filling up his body the way gravel fills up a jar, and Lucifer is the water that's poured in to seep through the cracks and fill it up entirely.

Lucifer is also infinitely bigger than any other angels—Castiel is a low-ranking angel, and he's over three-hundred meters tall. So Lucifer, Sam imagines, must take up a hundred times that space at least. He is, after all, the Morningstar. One of the first angels ever created. One of the four most powerful archangels and God's favorite. Of course he's enormous, likely bigger than Sam could possibly fathom. And yet he fits perfectly.

And what Sam feels... he never could have hoped for this.

Think the sort of isolated calm you get when you take a bath and completely submerge yourself in water, and multiply that by a thousand.

Think the ecstatic rush of a full-body orgasm, and imagine feeling that rush  _constantly_.

Think the relief of being in prison for literally millions of years and  _finally_  being let out.

On Lucifer's side that last one is true, and because he feels it, Sam feels it too.

He's right; it really is exhilarating. This is nothing like being possessed by a demon—Sam isn't trapped in the least. He isn't watching his body do things with no way to control it himself. He's consciously moving just as Lucifer is, making the involuntarily decisions at the same time and with precisely the same nerve endings, even thinking some of the same voluntary thoughts. They're moving together as one being, and it's as easy as breathing. Like they've been like this since the beginning of time.

Sam is still angry, but if he's being honest with himself, he's angry at quite literally everything  _but_  Lucifer. It's just easier to direct it at him. When Lucifer offers to let him blow off steam by killing demons, they both do it, and for that time they share Lucifer's hatred for the things he created by breaking humans as well as Sam's hatred for evil, and they are the comet that purifies the room by destroying what should never have been there.

Now that they're together like this, Sam really understands. He understands what Lucifer really wanted all along, which no one else knew, not any of the angels or even any of the most loyal demons—to go back home. That's it. Lucifer doesn't want to be evil for evil's sake, but rather just revenge. He's angry for all the right reasons and he's bitter because he spent millennia in pure torture and he's sad because he believes his father stopped loving him. No one seems to think about it, but Lucifer is the biggest advocate for  _free will_  that there ever was. He was the first, in fact. And all he ever wanted to do was understand why God wanted him to bow down to lesser creatures.

Now, he thinks, Lucifer understands too. He's still bitter, but he knows that this tantrum, though millions of years coming, isn't the right way to go.

So Lucifer takes him home and they tell Michael to give it up. Dean shows up, as fate would have it, and they beat the shit out of him together because they never wanted him to interfere, and the words of spite that come out of Sam's mouth—" _You've been a real pain in my ass_ "—really are Sam's.

But Sam forces himself to stop being angry at Dean, and in a single moment he feels such a surge of love for his brother that it convinces Lucifer to leave Dean alone and jump in the Cage to stop this whole thing. It's not so much that Sam gains power over him as it is that Lucifer lets go; he wants Sam to be happy.

They both do it to save humanity, but Sam also does it to save Lucifer. He won't let Michael kill him, and he refuses to even allow the chance. And as horrible as the Cage is and as much as he never wanted to go back there, Lucifer doesn't resist because this is the only way to make Sam happy. This is the only way to be with him.

Even more so as they fall together, it's like being a comet. And Sam can't think of a better way to exist.


End file.
